Climbing How I Love Thee

Thou art the Othelo to my Baskin Robins
When I climb your walls, I attain a state of height
Both literal and figuratival

The peace I feel, while grunting so real
I can’t conceal my zeal
So I squeal and deal my shpeel

The sealing day betwixt my love for climbing
I am not sure what a twixt is
Sounds quite yummy, especially with an eclair

I just pray that the belayer, belays well
For I shall flatten like a pancake of yore
If the belayer is drunk off of ale from the store

I hateth when the harness snaps
I fall farth below
And when I hit the ground
My teeth go through’ith my nose



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